


Want

by rogue_copywriting_bot



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Romance, non-au, plausibly canon-compliant or close to it, taekai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27360490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogue_copywriting_bot/pseuds/rogue_copywriting_bot
Summary: In which TaeKai try to assert control over their very weird lives by starting something new.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Lee Taemin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Want

**Author's Note:**

> _마신 순간 목이 타는 듯해 불완전해  
>  뜨거움의 정의를 내리려 해  
> 본능도 이성마저도  
> 더 원하게 될 테니 더 타오르게 돼 넌_   
>  _Once you drink, your thirst will only deepen  
>  You're incomplete, your passion undefinable  
> neither instinct nor reason.  
> You'll want more, you'll for burn more._   
> 
> 
> This is a bit of fluff, but it's also part of my own head-cannon for [ End Of My Innocence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27041659). But before things go horribly wrong, at least they get to fall in love.

They were two kids, when they met. 

They’d found something in each other immediately, some spark of shared soul. They’d clung to each other, an anchor of sanity in lives adrift in baffling contradictions. 

They were shining prodigies, the best of the best. They were feted and praised, worshiped and adored, bathed in intoxicating glamour and promised the world. They were skinny boys, not trusted even to choose the words they spoke, their every movement monitored and scrutinised. They were poked and pinched, bleached and cut and starved. They were lucrative, delicate, exotic investments; assets in the same class as hothouse orchids and thoroughbred racehorses. They were perpetually exhausted, eternally confused. 

Jongin was overwhelmed by it. Taemin was enraged.

They found little nooks to hide in together, to rest in the security of each other's presence. They curled together, tangled in each others’ limbs, letting the soft comfort of human contact cushion the crush of fatigue, and told each other stories. 

“We live in a fairy-tale, one of the old dark ones.” Taemin sighed. "We’re two kids lost in the forest, tired and hungry. Stalked by wolves and witches and monsters. Easy prey.”

Jongin lay silent, wide-eyed. He was listening, sure, but mostly he was enraptured by the sparks of brilliance he’d discovered in the other boy’s irises, uncountable shards of gold, lit from within by the incandescence of his mind. A hunger blazed in there, a power, and it warmed him. He wasn’t scared when he had Taemin.

Taemin read his mind again, of course he did.

“Don’t let them scare you, Jongin-ah. I’m going to learn their secrets. I’ll learn their magic.” His voice was soft as always, but something fierce flashed in its undercurrents, in his gorgeous toothy smile.

“I’m going to beat them.”

-

They’d found something else in each other, too, a shared force which threatened to drag them into places which were utterly taboo. They'd tried to bury it, to lock it away, to hide from it. They were terrified of it.

They were powerless to deny it.

It was a kiss that sealed things. Everything before, all the touches and embraces, the cuddling and stroking and hand-holding, the silly horseplay gone slightly too far, all the looks and winks and jokes and whispers, it was all deniable, as thrilling as it was. Just ambiguous enough. But then one evening, tucked away in a hidden corner, as private as anything could be for them, Taemin had leaned in close, his breath light, his hands trembling on Jongin’s shoulders, and had made it all real.

They’d been silent for a long while, staring, lost in each other’s faces, searching for any flicker of shock, of rejection, of disgust, of irony, any excuse to apologise, to laugh, to run, to go back. 

All they’d found was want.

They’d fallen into each other, still standing, still fully clothed, breathless with need, hands and tongues and bodies jumbled in a clumsy, desperate rush for sensation, moaning into each others’ mouths, drunk on wild, fizzing, chaotic pleasure, as much from the validation of each other’s response as from their own bodies, the lines between them annihilated. It was a mess. It was a rebirth.

Taemin’s quest to master their world had a new urgency, after that. They were so vulnerable, so helpless, so desperately exposed. It was the stupidest, riskiest thing they could ever have done. It was madness. It was suicide. But it was the only thing in their lives that was true.

It was meant to be like this, Taemin had reasoned. This gave him strength. Power wasn’t an abstract thing any longer: it was safety, it was freedom. He had to learn, now that he had something precious to fight for.

-

They made a game out of hiding it. 

Seed doubt in their minds, Taemin said. Give them little crumbs of truth and laugh at them when they swallow. Make them feel foolish for ever noticing. Then give them something new. They want a puzzle, so build one for them, and make them work for it, one tiny clue at a time, until they see what you want them to see.

Little stories. Little scripts. It’s acting training, right? We’ll be ready for dramas.

It scared Jongin a bit, how instantly and completely Taemin could switch his face, his energy, his self. He could never bring himself to go as far, to turn off Kim Jongin with such control. He could wear Kai as a mask, but every transition took time, effort, will, and some little winking glimmer of him always shone through the cracks around the edges.

He was always Kim Jongin, except when Taemin made him come apart. What he was then, adrift in the molten remains of his own self-consciousness, was something new, something brave. He was free.

He needed it like he needed air. He needed more.

They tried, as much as possible, to get out of the company bubble, out into great steaming wilderness of the city beyond, where they could hide in the mass of it, darting through the bronze and cashmere and neon of Gangnam, two more skinny young men in hoodies and masks. Taemin plunged into the depths of it, alone, and came back with things no one was supposed to have, fake names, fake histories, little magic items to let them slip about unquestioned, to be nobody. 

They found a place to hide, an annex of an old house in an alley, one of the few surviving post-war relics in this otherwise glossy part of town, its ugly squat form softened by vines. It was close enough but far enough from the company, a long brisk walk through a warren of trendy salons and hip chicken shops and boutique purveyors of exquisite artisanal coffee. It had no doorman, no cameras, no paperwork, no scrutiny: its guardian, instead, was a sweet grandmother who needed cash and liked the looks of these two very polite boys, students from Daegu who needed somewhere close to university but would be away a lot and would never under any circumstances throw parties. Jongin brought her little gifts of fruit from time to time.

Spring storms rolled in along the river, clearing the winter’s dust and soot from the sky. The riverfront towers glittered in the gaps between grime-streaked brick walls, until the sudden explosion of fresh growth on the chestnut tree in the courtyard obscured it all. They filled it with a cheap little bed, a cheap little sofa, a cheap little desk, all the typical detritus of young men living alone for the first time, plus some things which made it theirs: for Jongin, a large pile of books; for Taemin, a collection of very unofficially obtained second-hand electronics, on which he did mysterious things. Learning, he said.

They had a place to be themselves, at last, unmasked, for whatever hours they could rescue from the relentless maw of their schedules. 

-

The rain was falling outside, drawing a curtain of white noise over the world. They were curled on the bed together, nose to nose, limbs slack and heavy from endless dance. Taemin somehow prevailed over the pull of the earth, one slender hand drifting up Jongin’s arm, down the curve of his shoulder, the soft hollow of his throat, the proud line of his jaw, the warmth of his lips.

“How are you real? - ah –“ a tiny exhalation when Jongin kissed his fingertips, a warm flush dawning on his cheeks, life flowing through him again, coaxed out by Taemin’s touch. Surfing on the swell of vitality while it lasted, Jongin rocked his hips close, smiled at Taemin's little startled gasp of want.

“You make me real.” Purpose filled him. He pressed his lips to Taemin’s, lifted him, wrapped his legs around Taemin’s waist, buried his fingers in his damp hair, whimpered into the kiss with every movement of Taemin’s hips against his. Taemin’s hands were sliding over him, dragging his clothes off him, every touch sending showers of sparks through his skin. His task complete, Taemin sat back, a wicked glint to his smile as Jongin moaned in protest at the loss of the pressure of his body, stripped off his own clothes while Jongin pawed at him, inarticulate with need. 

One tiny gentle push was all it took to make Jongin collapse back into place, his hands tangled in the pillows, knees drawn up, drawn out, back arched as he fought the urge to hide himself and open himself at the same time.

“I want – I want –“ his eyes squeezed shut as Taemin’s mouth found the smooth tight skin of his belly, running a trail of gentle kisses and tickling breath down, down, oh god – 

“Hmmmm?” Taemin’s hands closed on his hip bones, holding him firm, arcs of pleasure radiating from his fingertips, to the core of him, to where – 

He groaned, deep and ragged, as Taemin’s tongue traced the length of his cock, the drag of it wiping his mind clean, blank of anything but that feeling. Taemin revelled in toying with him, hands still pinning his hips to the bed, chasing the tip of his cock as it kicked and jumped, teasing him with little licks, little nips, little kisses that made Jongin yelp and swear and pulse, until he finally took pity and swallowed him down, once, twice, three times into the soft heat of his mouth, humming with satisfaction at the desperate broken sounds he was provoking. 

“Taemin-ah-ah-ah oh please – “ Jongin whined as the other boy pulled back, licking his gleaming red lips, clearly pleased with himself.

“You want something?” He turned his head to kiss and nuzzle at Jongin’s sleek bronze thighs, taunting him with little bites. “Ask me, hmm?” moving down, inch by inch, hands still holding Jongin still, eyes sparkling slyly though his lashes, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “I’d do anything for you.”

Jongin groaned, biting his tongue, half-hiding behind one hand, torn between lust and shame. Why were there no words for this that weren’t awful, what even were words, how – 

“ - want you inside me – “ his cheeks were on fire, what had he said “ – want you to fuck me –“ Felt Taemin stiffen, freeze, his gaze locked on him, holding his breath, _shit_ – 

Then Taemin was sliding along him, above him, arms framing his head, heavy on him, cock pressed against this, so hot, so hard, oh god – 

“Are you sure?” Dark eyes searching him, pupils as wide as the night sky, swallowing him whole. A faint tremor running through Taemin’s whole body, a palpable wish for the answer to be yes. Jongin turned his face into the crook of Taemin’s neck, hiding there, whispering into him.

“ –please don’t make me beg –“

He felt Taemin shiver, heard his hiss of breath, felt the sudden surge of energy throb though him.

“ – now?” the slightest waver of incredulity, of – oh god, Lee Taemin was nervous. Nervous, because of him. A wave of euphoria lifted him, an intoxicating rush of confidence. He wrapped himself around Taemin, overpowering him, engulfing him, pulling him down, close, making him gasp at the pressure. 

“Yes.” 

He pinned Taemin to him, gripping the nape of is neck with one hand while the other snaked away, fumbling for the little bottle of oil they kept to unknot their muscles after training. He claimed Taemin’s mouth, tasting him, revelling in it as Taemin reasserted himself, wild and hungry and urgent. Jongin arched his back, sliding his oil-slick fingers under himself, into himself, one and then two, opening himself up, panting into Taemin’s lips, until he pushed too far and a wanton moan spilled out of him before he could stop it. Taemin tore away, flushed and kiss-bitten, to glance down, to confirm. His eyes were huge, the look in them - Jongin didn't get to surprise him often, honestly, and took far too much pleasure in this moment. “You – “

“Yes. Fuck, Taem, I've been wanting for ages - please - please I’m ready. “

That was a lie, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t ready, he could never have been ready, but any reticence was washed away by urgent need. Found Taemin’s cock, as achingly hard as his own, stroked him, slicked him, guided him – _oh_ – 

Jongin gasped, his legs crushing Taemin’s waist, his hand yanking at his hair, pulling his head back, trying in some way to repay the intensity of what he was feeling, to read it on Taemin’s face. Heard Taemin whimper, his eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed, muscles trembling as he held himself, moving slowly, so slowly – 

Too much. Too much. Not enough – he sobbed as he rocked himself up to take more of Taemin, he needed more, the stretch taking his breath away, a delicious warmth swelling underneath it, more – 

Shocking jolts of pleasure, striking without warning. He curled, muffling his wail in Taemin’s shoulder, clawing at his hips, groaning as he felt Taemin freeze, try to draw back – 

“Are you okay?” gentle fingers on his cheek, brushing the wetness there, he was crying 

“ – mmm – “ 

“Jonginnie. Are you okay.” Light and breathy, but grounded in worry. 

“ – yeah." _show him, damn it_

He rolled his hips up again, and the sound Taemin made sent showers of white across his vision. He let his eyes flutter closed, abandoning himself to the sensation, as Taemin finally gave in to his own body and let himself move with sinuous power, instinctual, fluid, perfect. “ – so close to you – so close – “ he slid his hand between them, felt Taemin throb in him, helpless at his own body’s response, feedback on feedback, spiralling -

He came with a shattered gasp, speechless, voiceless, staggered by the intensity of it. Taemin shuddered, clung to him, collapsed with a ruined moan, lost.

Reality, gradually bleeding back in through the warm fog of bliss. Taemin was staring at him, his cheeks still blooming pink and glowing with sweat and adoration. The rain had stopped. The afternoon light painted everything with radiance.

“Hi.”

“ – hi.”

A soft kiss, chaste and sweet. Gentle hands cradling his head. Taemin. The smell of him filling everything, mellow and earthy and human.

“Well, what was it like?” There was the faintest little shimmer of something in Taemin’s voice, playfulness as the mask that apprehension wears.

“ – um. I don't - I mean - " Why was he asking questions like this now, how was he supposed to make words for it? There could never be words. " - Taem, what do you think, just look at me." 

Taemin didn’t respond, his eyes still locked on Jongin’s, but some part of him was distant, adrift somewhere else in Taemin-space, searching, worrying. Somehow, of the two of them, Jongin was the one who was closer to Earth.

“Taemin? What’s wrong?”

“Seeing you like that, feeling like that - " he sighed, from somewhere deep down. His thumbs traced the salty line running from the corner of Jongin’s eyes, reverent. 

“Kim Jongin, you are the only thing in the world that scares me. There is nothing that I would not do for you. Nothing at all. You make me helpless." 

He bowed his head, a ray of the low sun catching his eyes, making them glow. Jongin wanted to say something, wanted to articulate that this was one of those moments when it all seemed so clear, when he was sure the road ahead really went somewhere. They were getting stronger, safer, braver; their world was thawing, opening. It was going to be okay, they were going to be okay. Surely Taemin felt it too. 

His face was close enough Jongin could feel his whisper in his skin.

"I love you.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Safe & Sound](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369469) by [elenilote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenilote/pseuds/elenilote)




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